


lovers, in the low light

by loveintheveins



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, it's not bad though i promise, physical therapist!Iwaizumi, professor!Oikawa, they're in their forties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveintheveins/pseuds/loveintheveins
Summary: Oikawa Tooru was lying on his side with his face nestled on a pillow. The dim glow caught on his sleep mussed hair, highlighting the smattering of silver strands that mixed with the locks on his temples and the back of his head, which were cut short due to the oppressive summer heat.His exposed skin was illuminated by even strips of light and the elongated shadows it created accentuated his features, from the strong line of his jaw and slightly upturned nose to the curl of his long lashes and the thin age lines around the corners of his eyes.The scene resembled a painting, with Oikawa turned into a timeless being by an expert hand holding a brush.





	lovers, in the low light

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I was inspired by [this](http://aunnoo.tumblr.com/post/171717576082/i-am-in-dire-need-of-middle-aged-iwaoi) amazing headcanon by the wonderful [aunnoo](http://aunnoo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Please check it out!
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction so I decided to go for an intimate scene and get a feel for the characters, since I have no idea what I'm doing. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! *hides in a corner*
> 
>  **Edit:** I made a playlist inspired by this fic, which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/analuisall/playlist/1qV2i69FDUlnx0fSqSYftE?si=eaIEK91IQv6pyRmubNo66A).

I am amazed by peace  
It is this possibility of you  
asleep  
and breathing in the quiet air

— _Poem for My Love_ , **June Jordan**

 

 

Hajime was awoken by the very annoying noise of his phone vibrating against the wood of the nightstand and quickly shot his arm out to turn his alarm off, groaning lightly to himself when the cold blasting from the air conditioner hit his skin.  
  
The room was enveloped in blessed silence and he pulled his arm back inside the blanket cocoon he was burrowed in, wrapping himself back in it until only the upper side of his face was visible and relishing the warmth that surrounded his body. He then turned on his side and tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes, but they landed on a sight that immediately captivated his full attention.  
  
The blinds on the window above the bed were half-open, letting the fading rays of the sun and the first evidence of city nightlife stream in through the gaps to paint the walls of the bedroom with uneven bands of cerulean and gold. They bathed the figure sleeping soundly just below it, partially covered by a thick white quilt.  
  
Oikawa Tooru was lying on his side with his face nestled on a pillow. The dim glow caught on his sleep mussed hair, highlighting the smattering of silver strands that mixed with the locks on his temples and the back of his head, which were cut short due to the oppressive summer heat.  
  
His exposed skin was illuminated by even strips of light and the elongated shadows it created accentuated his features, from the strong line of his jaw and slightly upturned nose to the curl of his long lashes and the thin age lines around the corners of his eyes.  
  
The scene resembled a painting, with Oikawa turned into a timeless being by an expert hand holding a brush and body almost completely blending with the backdrop, only slightly outlined by carefully measured and unfaltering strokes. The fluffy white quilt he was sleeping under was crumpled in waves around him, complementing the picture and granting an almost ethereal look to it.  
  
It was the very definition of peaceful and comfortable and Hajime felt his whole body unwinding at the fondness that filled his chest. Lying in bed like this, with his face relaxed and lips slightly parted to release small breaths, he could see the beauty that was Oikawa Tooru.  
  
Of course, one could argue that he had always been handsome – and let it be said that Iwaizumi Hajime would never be caught disagreeing with that statement –, but there was something about Oikawa’s ever-present charm and grace that seemed to gradually intensify with the more he aged, making him look more mature and self-assured.  
  
Having been in each other’s lives for longer than either of them could really remember, Hajime considered himself unbelievably fortunate to have been able to stand beside Oikawa for every step of the way and watch him grow into the exceptional man he was today.  
  
He kept staring dazedly at Oikawa until the sun dipped below the horizon, taking the last of the golden rays with it and leaving the sky a canvas of indigo and mauve. Deciding it was probably time to get up, he – albeit a little regretfully – extricated his arms from some of the blankets and placed his right hand on the nape of Oikawa’s neck, playing with the short hairs there.  
  
“Tooru, it’s time to wake up,” he murmured, voice scratchy from disuse.  
  
Oikawa didn’t budge, so he decided to try a different approach. He scooted over so their faces were level and let his lips brush against the other’s left ear while continuing to pet his hair.  
  
The effect was instantaneous: Oikawa stirred, rubbing the ticklish ear against his shoulder as he scrunched up his nose, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. It was such an endearing sight that Hajime couldn’t help the silly smile that took over his face.  
  
“Good evening, old man,” he teased. Oikawa frowned at the nickname, eyes still closed and half of his face smushed into the pillow. Hajime couldn’t hold back his fond chuckle.  
  
Oikawa had taken to calling him “old man” and cracking jokes about his age ever since he noticed the increasing amount of grey hairs around Hajime’s temples. He could still hear Oikawa’s playful tone when they got on the train home earlier that afternoon, mock-whispering in his ear, _“Iwa-chan, you should take a priority seat since you’re always so tired now that you’re elderly~.”_  
  
For his part, Hajime had taken the teasing in stride – and if he was being honest he actually liked the fond lilt of Oikawa’s voice when he called him that. He sounded more delighted than anything else, and the thought made his heart soar like he was still a teenager with his first crush. He guessed that, in more ways than one, he still was.  
  
However, just because Hajime was a sap who enjoyed every silly nickname given to him by his life-long partner, it did not mean he wasn’t going to latch onto an opportunity to tease said partner relentlessly.  
  
So when one winter morning had him sitting on the couch playing with Oikawa’s hair – his head resting on Hajime's lap while he read one of his many scientific journals – and Hajime had caught sight of a streak of silver just behind his ear, he’d promptly taken a picture with his phone and showed it to Oikawa with a nasty smirk growing on his face.  
  
Predictably, his drama queen of a boyfriend had completely overreacted. He had jumped off the couch and ran towards the bathroom, whining loudly when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Hajime had followed behind him and noted that on closer inspection there were also grey hairs starting to show on his temples.  
  
Oikawa had made a horrified face, but before he could say anything Hajime had circled his arms around his waist and nuzzled his nose against the offending strands, breathing in the sweet scent of his passion fruit shampoo. _“I think this makes you look even hotter than before,”_  he'd whispered in his broyfriend's ear, which earned him a shiver in response.  
  
Oikawa had stolen a glance at Hajime’s expression through the mirror, most likely trying to gauge the veracity of his words. _“Do you really think so…?”_  he had mumbled a little uncertainly and that just wouldn’t do, so Hajime had turned him around and kissed him _hard_ , putting all the love and want he felt into it.  
  
When they’d finally parted for breath, Oikawa looked at him with smoldering eyes and a pretty pink blush spreading on his cheeks. There was no more need for words; Hajime reached for his hand and walked them to the bedroom, closing the door behind them and push—  
  
He was distracted from his pleasant recollections by the sound of an indignant huff and a cold hand lightly shoving his face away. Oikawa tended to communicate with touches and barely coherent mumbling after just waking up, when his ability to speak was still slowly rebooting. However, Hajime knew from experience that was more than enough for him to act like his usual dramatic self.  
  
“‘m not old,” he grumbled into the pillow, glaring at Hajime with his visible eye. His lips were set into a cute pout that Hajime wanted to kiss away.  
  
He took Oikawa’s hand from his face and threaded their fingers together, caressing the back of his hand with a calloused thumb.  
  
“You’re kind of old, babe. Those grey hairs don’t lie,” he said, adding a wink at the end because he knew it would aggravate his partner.  
  
He was right: Oikawa immediately narrowed his eyes and tried to pull his hand back towards himself. But before he could do that, Hajime closed the small distance between their faces and pecked him lightly on the lips.  
  
The gesture seemed to be enough to drain all the fight out of Oikawa; he still tugged at his hand but it was a half-hearted attempt at best, considering the small smile he was trying – and failing – to suppress.  
  
“You’re so cute after waking up, it’s not fair,” he complained. It _really_ wasn’t fair; how was Hajime supposed to behave like a respectable adult and contribute to the betterment of society when all he wanted to do was smooch his adorable partner to the ends of the universe?  
  
“‘m always cute,” Oikawa mumbled around a yawn, making grabby hands at Hajime’s shirt. He inched closer, resting his head in the space between Hajime’s shoulder and neck and taking a deep breath in. This caused a shiver to run down his spine and his arms wound up around Oikawa’s waist almost instinctively, hands splayed against his naked back.  
  
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Hajime quipped, but he was already lowering his head to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead and murmuring a low _“Good evening, love.”_  
  
“G’evenin’, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered against Hajime’s collarbone before planting a soft kiss to the warm skin there. It was such a spontaneous and unassuming show of affection that it made butterflies stir up in his stomach. _God_ , Hajime was so enamoured with this man.  
  
“We should probably get up, or you’ll fall asleep again and end up waking up at 2 a.m. to wander around the flat and rummage through the cupboards.”  
  
“You make me sound like a hungry lost puppy!” Oikawa snorted, looking up through long lashes.  
  
“Good, you finally got it,” Hajime droned, face completely impassive.  
  
“Iwa-cha _an_!” Oikawa whined, trying to sound put-out even though his body was shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Hajime couldn’t even attempt to maintain his serious expression; Oikawa’s mirth was contagious and it didn’t take long until both were giggling like idiots.  
  
“C’mon sleepyhead, let’s go eat something. I’m starving,” he said after recovering his breath, and was about get up when he remembered something. “How’s your knee?” he asked a little worriedly.  
  
“Better, but it feels a bit stiff,” Oikawa furrowed his brows and sighed, shoulders dropping slightly.  
  
“Hey, don’t make that face, we did walk a lot today,” Hajime said in a soft voice, combing his fingers through Oikawa’s messy bedhead and tugging softly at the ends.  
  
“I guess,” he pouted, but looked mollified nonetheless.  
  
It had been a surprisingly mild day for July, the oppressive heat giving way to a slightly cloudy and muggy – but much more bearable – weather. Since it was a Sunday and they were both too lazy to cook they’d decided to grab lunch at the local mall and do some shopping while they were at it, seeing as Oikawa had to buy some books to help him plan next semester’s classes, and Hajime was in serious need of a new pair of trainers.  
  
For some reason Hajime can’t recall now – it probably had something to do with “basking in the sun” or whatever bullshit their fried brains had come up with in a moment delusion – they had ditched the train and walked to the mall. It was only a twenty minute walk, but at one point shopping had turned into window-shopping and chatting idly while eating ice cream, and _that_ had turned into buying groceries before walking back home.  
  
It was when they were getting in line to pay that Oikawa’s knee started to give him grief. That wasn’t to say Oikawa was unfit; on the contrary, he still frequented the gym semi-regularly and went running with Hajime on the weekends, but being a university professor meant he spent most of his time sitting down at his desk, be it at home or at work, marking tests and revising papers.  
  
However, after he’d injured his knee while playing volleyball during his senior year his former physical therapist had categorically forbidden him from ever putting it under intense strain for prolonged periods again, otherwise he’d need to undergo surgery. Having followed his orders to a tee Oikawa’s condition improved, but his knee would never go back to functioning the way it used to and would still act up at times.  
  
When Hajime got his degree in sports medicine he became Oikawa’s physical therapist, always trying to make sure his knee was taken good care of and paying close attention to possible causes of worry. So after getting home that afternoon Hajime had sent Oikawa to ice the offending member while he dealt with the groceries and then had both of them lie down to take a nap and recharge their energy.  
  
“Hmm... I got it,” he murmured against Oikawa’s forehead. “How about we sit on the couch and I’ll massage your knee for a bit, yeah?”  
  
Oikawa instantly cheered up.  
  
“Iwa-chan’s massages are the best,” he looked up and smiled brightly at Hajime.  
  
“I’m glad to hear. Let’s go then, old man.” Before Oikawa could say anything more he got up and stretched his arms above his head, back popping and shirt riding up to expose his abdomen.  
  
Oikawa wolf-whistled and winked suggestively.  
  
“You’re so nasty, Trashykawa. This is why we can’t have nice things,” Hajime deadpanned, making sure to use the old nickname so his partner knew he was being admonished.  
  
Oiwaka smiled beatifically, slowly sitting up and throwing his legs out of bed.  
  
“What did I ever do to deserve such an uncalled-for attack against my honor?” he touched the tips of his fingers over his heart and huffed in a fake display of hurt.  
  
“You’re such a dork,” Hajime snorted, failing miserably to conceal the fond look in his eyes.  
  
“You _love_ me,” Oikawa singsonged.  
  
“Guilty as charged,” he simply answered. It was the truth and they both knew it; there was not point in denying it.  
  
Oikawa wore a triumphant expression as he got up and limped slightly out of the room. Hajime followed closely behind, not quite touching but prepared to help him if it came to it. He moved slowly through the length of the corridor separating their bedroom from the living room and adjoining kitchen, using the wall as a support to take some of the weight off his knee.  
  
They reached the dark living room and Oikawa sat heavily on the couch, splaying his long arms around the back of it and resting his feet against the coffee table.  
  
“Stay here. I’ll make us something to eat before giving you that massage,” Hajime said as he turned on the black floor lamp that sat next to the couch and moved towards the kitchen to make some tea.  
  
There was a hum in acknowledgement to his words. He heard shuffling in the other room and the sound of the TV coming to life, casting bright and colourful glimmers of light against the walls that morphed into one another as quickly as they emerged, like the fleeting patterns inside a kaleidoscope.  
  
He could almost see Oikawa’s concentrated face as he flicked through the channels trying to find some sci-fi movie for them to watch. It never ceased to amuse Hajime how not even having a PhD in astronomy and teaching theoretical astrophysics at a higher education institution seemed to be able to quench his obsession with aliens; hell, it probably only exacerbated it.  
  
He chuckled to himself as he took the ingredients out of the fridge to make them both sandwiches. There were pictures of them littered all over the fridge door, setting apart and preserving some of their most cherished shared memories: a playdate in the Oikawas’ backyard when they were seven; a group shot of the Seijoh volleyball team during their third year of high school; a trip to the beach during their sophomore year of university; both of their graduation ceremonies.  
  
Every time he looked at those pictures Hajime was reminded of the pivotal role Oikawa had always assumed in his life, which only grew larger as time passed and eventually engulfed everything he knew, leaving nothing untouched by his presence. He wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but he couldn’t say he minded it much.  
  
When he was done making the sandwiches he leaned his body against the sink and waited for the kettle to boil, eyes wandering around their small kitchen. Perched on the windowsill and being illuminated by the soft moonlight coming through the blinds were eight or so potted plants of varying shapes and sizes.  
  
He’d started growing them one day out of sheer boredom and Oikawa had ended up taking on the hobby as well, going on about how _“I want to spend as much time as possible with my dearest Iwa-chan!”_  It was a relaxing sort of activity and it had eventually become something they could do together at the comfort of their home.  
  
_Jesus_ , Hajime thought with a small incredulous snort, _they really_ were _turning into old men_.  
  
The hissing of the kettle snapped him out of his reverie and he shook his head, snickering under his breath. He went back into the living room carrying their food and beverages in a tray but stopped short when he saw that Oikawa was watching _E.T._ for what was likely the one hundred-thousandth time.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re actually a forty-five year old child,” Hajime berated half-heartedly, setting the tray on the coffee table and sitting next to his partner on the couch.  
  
“I’ll have you know I’m still forty- _four_ until next week, and age is irrelevant when one is able to appreciate the classics,” Oikawa said as he took his food and scooted closer to Hajime, placing lanky legs over his lap.  
  
They ate their dinner and watched the rest of the movie in silence – and as much as Oikawa tried to disguise it, Hajime knew he was tearing up at the end. He smiled softly, remembering all the other times he'd done that; some things never did change.  
  
When the movie ended Hajime got up and took the tray back to the kitchen.  
  
“Hey old man, do you want me to get you anything?” he asked over his shoulder.  
  
“Can you get my laptop and the books I bought today, please? I think they’re in the bedroom,” Oikawa replied.  
  
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” Hajime said as he walked back to their room to fetch Oikawa’s things – not forgetting his glasses, which were sitting on the nightstand. He stopped by the bathroom on his way back to grab a bottle of analgesic cream.  
  
Back in the living room, Oikawa was stretched over the length of the couch like a lazy cat. Hajime handed him his laptop and glasses and put the books on the coffee table next to him, lifting his long legs and placing them back over his lap as he sat down.  
  
“Thanks, love,” Oikawa said as he perched his glasses atop the bridge of his nose and waited for his laptop to boot up.  
  
Hajime hummed, spreading some cream over Oikawa's sore knee and causing a shiver to run down his body.  
  
“Jeez Iwa-chan, that shit’s _cold_!” he admonished half-heartedly.  
  
“That would concern me more if you weren’t only dressed in those flimsy gym shorts. Weren’t you cold _before_?” Hajime retorted as he began to massage the soft skin with slow and firm motions.  
  
“Of course not, it was so damn hot outside I almost died of a heat stroke,” Oikawa mumbled and began typing away, lithe fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.  
  
“What are you working on?”  
  
“I have to finish setting up the syllabus for that new course I’m teaching this semester.”  
  
“Ah, the one you’re taking over from Maeda-san?” Hajime asked curiously.  
  
He had always been interested in his partner’s work and research – even if he sometimes got overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of it – and had already met most of his coworkers. Maeda-san was a very well-known astrophysicist and had been Oikawa’s advisor on his doctorate research. He was retiring after thirty-four years of teaching at the university.  
  
“Yeah, that’s the one. ‘Stellar and Galactic Astrophysics’.”  
  
“Sounds complicated,” Hajime snorted.  
  
Oikawa laughed and immediately launched into a cheerful explanation regarding the subject of the class and what topics he was planning on having his students write about, moving his hands around as he talked.  
  
He looked so passionate about the subject – eyes shining with a sharp gleam and cheeks pink from excitement – that Hajime couldn’t help but be drawn to him, like Oikawa possessed a strong orbit that wrapped itself around him and didn’t let go.  
  
They sat on the couch for a while longer, talking about work and their plans for Oikawa’s birthday while Hajime massaged his knee and Oikawa typed away at his keyboard. At some point, he had turned his laptop off and rested his head on one of Hajime’s shoulders, circling his arms around his waist.  
  
His voice started getting lower and softer, signaling his growing state of drowsiness; their earlier walk must have really tired him out. Sensing this, Hajime started to talk more and Oikawa snuggled himself against the side of his neck to listen to him. Not even five minutes later his body relaxed completely against Hajime’s and his breathing evened out.  
  
Hajime lifted him carefully on his arms and walked back to their bedroom, turning off the lights on the way. He placed Oikawa on the bed and lied down next to him, covering them both with some of the quilts and blankets. He then scooted over and placed a light kiss on Oikawa’s forehead, the smell of passion fruit filling his lungs.  
  
“G’night, old man. Love you,” he whispered before closing his eyes, relishing the warmth of the body next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a moodboard for this fic, which you can check out [here](https://loveintheveins.tumblr.com/post/172043788374/lovers-in-the-low-light-pairing-iwaizumi).
> 
> Kudos and comments are my life source (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧  
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated since I want to improve my writing, so don't hesitate to point out mistakes, make suggestions and whatnot.
> 
> Also, come shout at me about iwaoi on [tumblr](https://loveintheveins.tumblr.com/), my ask is always open and I have so many feels.


End file.
